On the Road to Nowhere
by sapphireswimming
Summary: end!verse. Dean's in a future where nothing is the same. Not even himself.


**For tumblr's superphantom week prompt: The Ultimate Enemy / end!verses**

**Note: I've changed the timeline so that Dean gets zapped into this alternate universe _before_ future!Dean has found the Colt.**

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**On the Road to Nowhere**

February 18, 2014

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Dean stared at his stony faced self standing over the maps laid out across the table.

He coughed lightly.

His future self's eyes moved to a different portion of the table but very purposefully did not meet his. After a moment where he seemed to be taking a deep breath, he went back to perusing the lines in front of him, occasionally stopping to make a note or measure the distance between two safe cities.

Dean huffed. He could really be a jerk sometimes, and that was coming through loud and clear the more time he spent with his alternate self.

"Hey," he said from his seat in the corner. "Me!"

The leader of the camp turned around, annoyance clearly etched into every feature. "What?" he ground out.

"I know where you should go next," Dean said.

His double snorted. "Like you have any idea where to look. You're not the one that's been tracking this down for the last five years."

"Amity Park," he called out.

The other Dean stopped, not even breathing for a few seconds, before turning back and resuming his work with a sharp shuffle of papers.

"The Colt's not there," he said shortly.

Dean sighed. "I still think that you should go there."

Movement stopped again. "Why would I bother to go to Amity Park if the Colt isn't even there? That's the only thing we're looking for. It's the only thing that matters."

"Why should it be?" Dean challenged.

The man at the table turned around and looked at him like he couldn't understand how someone that had been the same as him just a few years before could have possibly become so stupid.

"Because the Colt, as you know," he spelled out slowly, "is the one weapon that can kill anything. If we get that gun and those bullets, we can kill Lucifer."

"You hope," Dean huffed.

"Yeah," his counterpart returned, storming closer. "Yeah, we do hope. Because, you know what? It's the only thing that can possibly work. If shooting the Devil between the eyes with that sucker doesn't kill him, then we're all screwed and nothing else we do matters. It doesn't matter how much toilet paper we have left or how many cans of coke or even if we somehow find a cure for the virus. Because that's it." He stared him down, mere inches away from his face.

Dean looked up into his own eyes, hardened by events he couldn't even begin to understand yet.

"And where has that gotten you, huh?" he challenged. "How long you been looking for this thing… what, five years? That's all you've been doing, right? That's the only thing that matters, isn't it?" he parroted. "But do you have it? No."

His other self fumed silently.

"So why don't you actually do something useful with your time while you let all of your other assets follow the last lead of _diddly squat_ you have on the Colt."

The leader of the resistance finally leaned back and, crossing his arms, asked, "And what makes you think that going to Amity Park would be useful?"

"Well, for starters, you've got other hunters there. That gives you manpower and resources and information."

The other Dean scoffed. "We don't even know that anyone's there."

Dean looked up in surprise. "But… didn't you check to see if they were okay? Or… did you… did you just abandon them?" He asked, horrified that any version of himself would leave the Fentons to their fate, but thinking that it wouldn't be too surprising given the other things he'd learned about himself in this future universe.

He got narrowed eyes in return. "Of course we checked," he seethed. "Radio silence. And I had other things to think about at the time."

Dean tried hard not to heave a visible sigh of relief. "So… you don't know that they _aren't _dead?"

"Haven't heard anything to the contrary."

"But if you go, then you can see for yourself."

"And that does… what exactly?"

He saw his own face closed off, not even caring to know the fate of a family he had considered friends. The lack of emotion was so far beyond even the stoicism he faced in the mirror every day that he found it hard to think of an answer.

"Like I said," he managed. "If they're there and alive, then you get more allies. More man power. More Intel. And the secret to how they were able to survive that long without you ever hearing anything from them," he pointed out.

"And, since it's more likely, we get there to find a ghost town, or worse, a hot zone of Croats that we weren't expecting, it's worse than a wasted trip."

"No, it's not. If Fenton Works is still standing, then there's a whole weapons vault down there in the lab. And all of their research and the Ops Center on the roof. Plus whatever supplies you can fit into the back of the car from their closets," he added, trying not to feel sick to his stomach at the thought of raiding the house of the dead.

The other Dean paused to consider this. "I don't have extra fuel to be wasting on personal trips," he finally said.

Dean grinned, then tried to smother it for the sake of his… own… pride. "Come on, you don't make personal trips. They're all for the Colt or for a supply run or for some reason."

"Yeah, and I just came back from a Colt run empty handed and two men down. I can't just go off tomorrow on one of your whims."

"Dude, you run this place. Whatever you say goes. And whether there are people in Amity Park or not, we're going to come back with something. That will be worth it, right? Bring back some canned beans for Chuck? They can't complain about you wasting resources if you come back with a new load of guns that don't need ammunition. And if you don't want to use company resources," he added slyly, "you can always take the personal car."

His counterpart raised an eyebrow.

"Oh come on, I know you wouldn't leave Baby parked outside on an empty tank. Sure, she's dusty, but I bet she's still in great shape. We can take her for a spin. Just like old times."

"Like old times? Except I've got myself instead of my brother. Great, that'll be just like old times," he said sarcastically.

"Actually," Dean replied seriously, "I was thinking more… Stanford Era old times."

There was a pregnant pause.

"Get out of here," his future self nodded to the door coldly. Just as Dean realized that he had probably pushed things too far and had turned to go, the man added reluctantly, "Get packed. I'm leaving at 1600."

"Sweet!" Dean fist pumped as he danced toward the door under the commander's scornful eye. "Road trip with myself!"

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**But GUYS. You do not know what hardship is until you you write a fic with two versions of the same character who have no distinguishing features but aren't clones and you're writing from the pov of the one who's out of place in the timeline. I apologize for all of the synonyms that was a rough ride. D:**

**I've got one other scene in mind for this scenario that I'd like to write *fingers crossed* but don't know if/when it will happen because I've got some other prompts to write to make up for days I'll be gone. And I'm definitely _not_ planning on making it a full length fic. So yes, there might be more, but not much more.**


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